


Cowards

by Eyebrowdancer



Category: Jojo Rabbit (2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Nazi Germany, Nazis, Office Blow Jobs, Office Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22486282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyebrowdancer/pseuds/Eyebrowdancer
Summary: Captain Klenzendorf and his second-in-command enjoy a peaceful evening.
Relationships: Freddy Finkel/Captain Klenzendorf
Comments: 6
Kudos: 171





	Cowards

The last of the clones shut the door and Captain Klenzendorf waited a moment before locking it behind them. Somehow, the double-room office felt smaller after everyone had left. He would have liked to draw the curtains or close the shutters but the windows had neither, so the sensation of being constantly watched was hard to shake. The record stopped playing and he heard Finkel lift the needle.

“Busy. Busy, busy day.”

“Yes, always.” Finkel’s smooth hair and unwrinkled shirt gave no indication that he’d done anything at all that day. Klenzendorf was relieved about it. He’d spent all afternoon lying meticulously to his colleagues. The mental exertion it took to keep track of all his conversations had worn him out. It cost energy to stitch his lies together in an airtight manner, indistinguishable from truth. At the back of his mind lurked that familiar foreboding, that unwelcome knowledge his pretence wouldn’t last. Sooner or later he’d slip or someone with the impetus to do so would pick at his fraying fabrications, unravelling them. The first few years he’d been only concerned with protecting himself against such a fate. Now, he also had to keep Freddy out of the firing line.

“That kid loves Jews,” Klenzendorf remarked. Finkel’s broad back stretched the cotton of his shirt into a pleasing plane as he leaned over the record player. As usual, Klenzendorf would have preferred not to notice.

“I don’t think he’d enjoy hearing you say that,” Finkel replied with a grin. Klenzendorf turned away and checked that the door was definitely locked. “What are you doing?”

It pained the captain to hear the sudden shift from amusement to dread in Freddy’s voice. It was necessary, of course. Anyone without a strong sense of paranoia had long since suffered the consequences of their innocence. It partly came as a relief to hear that Finkel wasn’t foolish enough to trust anyone nowadays, but it still stung to know that his fear was sparked by Klenzendorf’s behaviour. He could imagine that being locked in a room with a marksman wasn’t something Finkel had intended for his evening.

“I thought we could have a drink. Celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” Finkel watched Klenzendorf stride across the room and into his private office. He followed cautiously and saw the captain ease a brown bottle from a drawer in his desk. Klenzendorf presented it with a silent ‘ta-dah!’ and beckoned for Finkel to join him.

“Celebrate, yes. We’re alive, aren’t we?” Klenzendorf sat heavily in his chair and tried to open the bottle. Finkel observed as the captain gave up using his hands and started twisting the cap between his teeth. He winced to hear it finally crack open. Klenzendorf produced two stumpy crystal glasses and poured generously into each. Before Finkel had even sat down, the captain clinked his glass into Freddy’s and swallowed half his drink.

“I’m used to being alive,” Finkel muttered, studying the dark liquid before taking a wary sniff. “I don’t celebrate it every time I remember.”

“Ah. But you must see that staying alive has become something of a skill these days, yes?” Klenzendorf poured his glass back up to level and sunk it all. He hissed at the burn. Through stinging eyes, he noticed Freddy take a small sip. “You like it?”

“Not at all.”

“Then stop drinking it. Give it to me.” Their fingers met briefly as Finkel passed his glass over. His pale skin betrayed his embarrassment instantly. Klenzendorf laughed. “You are handsome like this.”

Freddy spun his head to look at the door. He began to realise why the captain had locked it.

“This is unwise. I must be going.”

“No, what? Stay.” Freddy sat back down. Klenzendorf moved the glasses and bottle aside to lean his elbows on the desk. “You’ve had a busy day,” he lied. “And so have I.” He unfastened his top button and kept a close eye on Finkel’s expression. “It is so tiring, this work.”

“Yes,” Finkel agreed warily.

“So tiring. And so bright outside, still!” Klenzendorf turned to the window, raised an arm and pretended to shield his eyes. Finkel frowned. It was past sunset. The captain stood and the sound of his chair scraping back on the wooden floor made Finkel jump. “I’ll rest my eyes in here,” he said, sauntering across to the windowless store room. “Well, my eye.”

“Do you need anything?” Finkel asked, confused. Was Klenzendorf going to sleep in the cupboard? Had he been drinking more than Freddy noticed?

“No, no.”

“Shall I leave?”

“No. Here, come and help me.”

Finkel stood with the automatic haste of his training but his instincts warned him to disobey. Still, his boots took him to the entrance of the store room where he watched the captain sink into the darkness.

“Where is it?” Freddy touched the wall to find the light switch but Klenzendorf’s hand appeared out of nowhere to stop him.

“Shut the door, then.”

Finkel did as he was told. His heart was in his skull. As soon as the last sliver of light was squeezed out of the door, Klenzendorf shoved Finkel into the wall.

“Don’t!”

“Don’t? Don’t what?” Klenzendorf backed off slightly, only just able to see the figure of Finkel’s nose and eyes in the dark. “Oh, what? You think I’m going to hit you?”

“You aren’t?”

“No! I’m insulted!” Klenzendorf noticed the grip he had on Finkel’s shirt front and slowly released him. “Well, I understand.” He grinned and hoped Freddy could sense it in the dark. “I am very intimidating, after all.” He didn’t appreciate the soft snort at that.

“If you’re looking for something in here, you might have better chances if we turn the light on.”

“Up until now I was certain you had a brain. Such a shame I’m mistaken.”

“What?”

Freddy’s eyes widened as he felt a mouth on his own. It didn’t stay for long, but even a second of contact was enough to throw him into a panic. Was this some sort of convoluted test? Did all the captains do this to gauge trustworthiness? Yes, he had noticed the occasional lasting smile or unnecessary praise coming his way, but reading too wishfully into anything was a death sentence.

“Is that ok?” Klenzendorf asked. The heavy silence clenched his lungs. If he’d misunderstood Freddy’s glances and lingering looks all these weeks, he would be dead by Friday. He’d have to finish that bottle tonight.

Out of the dark, from the hidden face in front of him, Klenzendorf heard a small, barely audible, “Yes.”

The relief swept them together again, harder this time. Klenzendorf’s heart soared as he felt Freddy’s arms pull him closer. He pressed Freddy back into the wall and seized his face. He couldn’t taste Freddy past the potency of his own alcoholic breath. Their hands moved fast and rough, pulling at buttons and tugging through hair. When Klenzendorf felt something rigid prod his thigh, he stepped back.

“This is trouble,” he warned quietly, still somewhat out of breath. “This can’t be known.”

“Yes, I know.”

“It would be too much of an embarrassment to just put us away. You understand what that means?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And you’re still here?” Klenzendorf reached out and found his hand come to rest on Freddy’s chest. He could feel his heart pumping erratically through his shirt.

“I’m still here.”

Klenzendorf leaned in for a deeper, more languid kiss. Making the most of their time alone would be nearly impossible, but trying was enough.

“Did you know?” he asked, pulling away and turning to lean on the wall beside Finkel. He could feel himself grinning into the blackness. It had been years since anyone had let Klenzendorf kiss them. “Was it obvious?”

“Not at all,” Finkel replied. “Could you tell?”

“Only in private. You are good at staying hidden.”

Finkel let out a heavy sigh. “I hope so.”

They enjoyed the silence. Finding a secret comfort in the middle of the mess came as a surprising relief to both of them, igniting their hopes and deflating them all at once. Hope was dangerous if you held it too dear and they both knew it. It would be too easy to suddenly rely on each other for something real, too easy to become lost in it and make a fatal mistake. What happened in the store room had to be quarantined to protect it from the madness outside.

“Are you married?” Klenzendorf asked.

“Not yet. Her name’s Erika.”

“Is she good to you?”

“As good as she can be.” Finkel paused and scratched his neck. “I’m not good to her, of course.”

“Why?” Klenzendorf asked, suddenly experiencing unwelcome images of Finkel as an abuser before realising what he meant. “Oh.” He nodded to himself in the dark. “I see.”

“And you?” Finkel dropped his hand and let it brush against Klenzendorf’s. This alone electrified his nerves.

“Yes. She got out.”

“Congratulations.”

“I wasn’t good to her either.” He took Freddy’s hand and squeezed it briefly. “You can’t want what you don’t want.”

Freddy nodded and moved closer. He pressed a kiss to the first warm skin he felt at his lips. By the captain’s movements, he could tell it was his neck. When he hummed in appreciation, Freddy felt the tremors on his mouth. His erection returned.

“What do you want?”

Klenzendorf laughed and Freddy gently bit into the vibrating skin. “I think you know. Let’s not waste what time we have.”

“Let’s not be morbid,” Freddy suggested, pulling away to stand in front of the captain. He felt clumsily at his waist until he found the man’s fly. Once unbuttoned, he stepped nearer to slide a hand down the captain’s trousers. The thrill of doing something so illegal and so gratifying almost hurt. Breaking from restraints was painful, even if it was only for a few stolen moments.

Klenzendorf’s gentle intake of breath was more arousing than Freddy would have anticipated. He pushed into the captain and drew out another long, deep kiss. Klenzendorf let his head fall back against the wall. Freddy could feel his grin.

“How old are you?” Freddy asked out of nowhere. Klenzendorf blinked.

“Why? I can still do everything.”

“Of course.”

“Fifty.”

“Shit.”Klenzendorf stepped away, yanking Freddy’s wrist from his trousers. “You don’t look it.”

“So you still want to? You won’t be imagining someone else?” Klenzendorf found the door and opened it carefully. A stripe of light pierced the store room as he peered out into the office. He turned and saw Freddy grinning stupidly.

“I always thought you were handsome.”

“Stop that.” Klenzendorf switched on the light and scanned the store room while Freddy closed his eyes against the sudden brightness. “Where are the poster boards? The big wooden ones?” He glanced back at Finkel. “Well? Look for them.”

Freddy squinted and started moving boxes and papers until he found a slim collection of wooden boards hidden between the shelves. He slid them out and passed them to the captain, who’d found a set of his own.

“Come on then.” Klenzendorf returned to the office and kicked shut the door that divided the front and back of the split room. He started leaning the boards up against the lower panes in the windows and nodded at Finkel to copy him. “Balance them. If they fall, we die.”

The narrow wooden ledge between glass and windowsill was just wide enough and bevelled enough to safely support each wooden board without any slipping. When they were up, Klenzendorf walked the perimeter and checked for gaps. Fortune had chosen to let the boards be more than wide enough to block his view into the street. He clapped once, loud.

“Excellent!” He locked the dividing door and invited Finkel over with an upward nod. “Privacy tastes good, doesn’t it?”

Klenzendorf held Freddy’s jaw and admired him for a moment before kissing him gently. Although he was smiling, Freddy could sense the sadness behind it. This encouraged him to kiss harder.

Somehow, they ended up back at the captain’s desk. Freddy pushed Klenzendorf into his chair and knelt in front of him, fingers hooked at his waistband. Klenzendorf shrugged down his suspenders and lifted his hips to yank down his trousers. When Freddy’s mouth touched him next, he couldn’t help but let his eyes roll back. He pushed his hand into Freddy’s hair encouragingly and groaned.

He felt the edge approaching too soon and so pushed at Freddy’s shoulder. They kissed again, Freddy leaning over his chair with his hands gripping each wooden arm. Klenzendorf found a wad of Freddy’s shirt in each fist and got to his feet, shoving him to sit on the desk. He pressed stubble-scraped kisses into Freddy’s neck, his jaw, his collarbones, all the while unbuttoning his shirt. When it came undone, he didn’t pull it off. Instead he shifted his attention to Freddy’s fly. He kicked the trousers down to Freddy’s hanging ankles and stepped into the gap between his legs. Freddy’s pale eyes were alight.

“Will this be new?” Klenzendorf asked, breathless. He stroked up Freddy’s thighs and felt the hairs stand on end. It took all his willpower not to attack at the mere sight of Freddy’s sweating forehead.

“Doesn’t matter,” Freddy panted. His voice-box rose and fell with a hard swallow and his eyes were impossibly round. Klenzendorf had to trust that Finkel could distinguish for himself the difference between excitement and terror.

“It will be slow,” Klenzendorf reassured. He delivered these words directly and softly into Freddy’s right ear, leaning in to put a hand between the man’s legs. Despite it being everything he had wanted since first catching sight of his new second-in-command, the captain couldn’t help the jolt of fear that shot up his spine. Crime didn’t come easily to him, even if he knew it would feel good.

They moved together pliant and responsive, Klenzendorf’s straight legs keeping Finkel balanced and trapped on the desk. Every time he pressed in and threatened to flatten Freddy, they found an equilibrium and continued smoothly. Finkel’s hands dug into Klenzendorf’s scalp, his shoulder blades, his firm waist. Every touch was hungry. Klenzendorf, meanwhile, stroked gently, unable to demonstrate such tenderness in his daily life and so pouring it all into Freddy.

When Klenzendorf finally believed Freddy to be at his most relaxed, he met his gaze with a warm sobriety, a hand on either side of his face. Freddy nodded.

Klenzendorf moved his hands to Freddy’s back and pushed. Freddy hissed, seizing the captain’s shoulders to brace for the welcome invasion. The pain was sharp and hot and focal. For an entire minute, he was unable to move or unclench his fists. Klenzendorf tapped into his slowly depleting well of patience and mustered an impossible demonstration of restraint, refusing to go deeper until Freddy relaxed. His past encounters with women were never this tantric, mainly because he found the act to be a necessary biological discharge. Freddy’s company provided something wholly different.

Eventually Finkel’s hands loosened and the captain was able to move. He made it slow, as promised, and held Freddy’s back firm so no air came between their chests. Freddy kept his eyes shut and felt the slight abrasion of Klenzendorf’s shirt on his face with each gentle thrust. Klenzendorf rested the side of his jaw on Freddy’s head and looked toward the door, fear and desire creating a sickly pool in his gut. Inviting Freddy for a drink and a grope in the store room wasn’t meant to become tragic lovemaking before the end of the world. He blinked away the heat from his eyes and concentrated on the moment.

When Freddy came, his fingers were once again tight in the captain’s uniform. He was quiet, which disappointed Klenzendorf. If the world were a different place he would like to hear what noises he could lure from that soft mouth. He stroked Freddy’s hair as he finished. He stayed deep and connected for a few breaths afterwards, holding Freddy’s head to his chest and trying to ignore reality collapsing home.

“Can I-” Freddy shifted and Klenzendorf released him, stepping away to pull up his trousers. The white stain on Klenzendorf’s uniform wasn’t an immediate priority. He watched Freddy’s face carefully as the man buttoned his shirt and made himself decent once again. “Ah, shit.”

“What is it?” Klenzendorf asked, panic quick to flare in his chest.

Freddy plucked at his clothing in discomfort. “No, it’s fine.” He didn’t feel like detailing aloud the sensation of wet warmth trailing down his inner thigh and sticking to his trouser leg. Instead, he moved away from the desk and regarded the captain from a distance. “Have a good evening, sir.”

Klenzendorf’s heart broke. He considered himself a practical, capable man. Discovering that he’d been harbouring the fantasy of prolonged time with Freddy proved that even his logical mind wasn’t impervious to a seductive, hopeful fiction. He nodded.

“Goodnight, Finkel. See you in the morning.”

Finkel let himself out. When Klenzendorf heard the second door close, he turned to his desk and picked up the bottle.


End file.
